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The trip of Capt. Charles Willoughby and family from Port Townsend to Quinault about 1884

The Samoan rats, travelling in a small bird cage carried by the children, attracted much attention. The white fur of the larger was irregularly marked with blotches of shining black to match his glittering eyes of jet; while that of the smaller was pure white and her eyes resembled beautiful rubies. On steamer and in hotel, "Nig" and "Pinkie" drew forth many exclamations of surprise and curiosity. So many had seen white mice. So few had even heard of white rats! "They will kill every other kind of rat!" exclaimed Kate. "Wharf rats bigger than they are themselves, or any kind." Then for the further pleasure of wondering children who pronounced them "So pretty!" or "So cunning!" especially while sitting up like squirrels and daintily washing their furry face with tiny pink hands, the pets would be freed from their prison, and, running up the arm to perch on the shoulder of their owner; or coming at call and affectionately lapping the capturing fingers; or, "cuddling up" in her lap for a nap like sleepy kittens, became still more admired for their intelligence and docility.Smooth and pleasant was their progress on Puget Sound until that cold and chilly morning in November, when an open stage started with father, mother, Adeline (12 years) and her three younger brothers, the rats, the blue Skye terrier and her half grown pup, to traverse the very rough and muddy road, sixty miles long, stretching between Olympia and Montesano. The boys, packed among sacks, straw, valises, boxes and blankets in the wagon bed were in high spirits, in spite of the chill and darkness of the early morning; and, once out of town, and among the lofty evergreens that bordered the way, sang gaily, if not appropriately, "In the morning by the bright light."But, Oh the road! Who would have thought that any vehicle could so squirm, bump

Sarah Cheney Willoughby (1842-1913) came to Washington Territory from Lowell, Massachusetts in 1862 to teach art at the newly founded University of Washington. After leaving the university to teach in a school in Port Townsend, in 1865 she met and married Captain Charles Willoughby, who worked at the time for the Coast Survey. Willoughby became an Indian Agent at the Neah Bay reservation in 1877, and was moved to Quinault in 1883, where he and Sarah lived (along with their younger children) until Charles's death in 1888. While on the reservation, Sarah took special interest in the culture of the local tribes, and both drew sketches of native scenes and recorded the legends and myths she was told.

The trip of Capt. Charles Willoughby and family from Port Townsend to Quinault about 1884

The Samoan rats, travelling in a small bird cage carried by the children, attracted much attention. The white fur of the larger was irregularly marked with blotches of shining black to match his glittering eyes of jet; while that of the smaller was pure white and her eyes resembled beautiful rubies. On steamer and in hotel, "Nig" and "Pinkie" drew forth many exclamations of surprise and curiosity. So many had seen white mice. So few had even heard of white rats! "They will kill every other kind of rat!" exclaimed Kate. "Wharf rats bigger than they are themselves, or any kind." Then for the further pleasure of wondering children who pronounced them "So pretty!" or "So cunning!" especially while sitting up like squirrels and daintily washing their furry face with tiny pink hands, the pets would be freed from their prison, and, running up the arm to perch on the shoulder of their owner; or coming at call and affectionately lapping the capturing fingers; or, "cuddling up" in her lap for a nap like sleepy kittens, became still more admired for their intelligence and docility.Smooth and pleasant was their progress on Puget Sound until that cold and chilly morning in November, when an open stage started with father, mother, Adeline (12 years) and her three younger brothers, the rats, the blue Skye terrier and her half grown pup, to traverse the very rough and muddy road, sixty miles long, stretching between Olympia and Montesano. The boys, packed among sacks, straw, valises, boxes and blankets in the wagon bed were in high spirits, in spite of the chill and darkness of the early morning; and, once out of town, and among the lofty evergreens that bordered the way, sang gaily, if not appropriately, "In the morning by the bright light."But, Oh the road! Who would have thought that any vehicle could so squirm, bump